Friday, February 25, 2011

DON'T RATTLE THE RATTLER

Here's the full story about what happened with the snakes and my date with my 3-yr-old grandson, Clarkie.

In the afternoon, I took a friend to a pet store that specializes in weird amphibious type pets. I don't know what's "pet-like" about bearded lizards or ill-tempered snakes, but it has its appeal to some.

I walked past a glass enclosed "cage" with a black Alabama snake in it. This snake immediately recoiled from me, hissed, and rattled his tail. Obviously he didn't like me. He did not respond this way when my 19-yr-old friend walked past. We experimented. The 19-yr-old stood there....nothing. I stood there, the snake becomes Voldermort.

Glass enclosers create brave observers so I stood my ground with Voldy and began to sway (which is a bad habit of mine, I admit). This must have infuriated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Swayed-In-Front-Of because in the time it takes to think "Wha the", that snake attacked me. He didn't REACH me, but the force with which he hit that glass was hard, fast, and angry, and I jumped backwards and left my body for a few seconds. All I left in place was an expletive, just hanging there in a blue cloud of repentance. That snake had to hurt his nose from the fierceness with which he hit that glass. Yikes.

When I finally centered myself, and my "friend" stopped laughing (bonding episode? I don't think so), he stood in front of Mr. Warmth and what happened? Nothing. Apparently, it's true. Snakes and women have a history that goes way back. I'm assuming he was a little smoother in the Garden.

Anyway, last night I took my 3-yr-old grandson on a Moo Moo/Clarkie date. We went to get some dairy-free-fat-free-taste-free yogurt and I told him about the experience. His huge blue eyes were even more huger and bluer. He hung on every word. So it came to the following dialoge:

ME: So, Clarkie, I'll take you to that store to look at those snakes, ok?